Tag: American Redstart

Mother’s Day has been problematic since my mother died. I am sure other daughters who have known a close with their mothers experience that special tinge of melancholy that greets this day.

We are no longer daughters. But we are still mothers even if we don’t have children of our own. There are “children” in our lives from our nieces and nephews to friends in the neighborhood or students at school if you are a teacher. Many of you likely mother pets as well.

Mother and daughter

I am blessed to have two grown children of my own. This year my daughter Meredith gave me a gift that will assure that this holiday will have sweet memories along with the bitter. For every pang of grief I feel at missing my mother I can reflect upon the beautiful memories Meredith gave to me this mother’s day simply by giving of herself.

She took me yesterday to Mount Auburn cemetery in Cambridge, MA, just a short drive from her home. Serious birders from around the world know the reputation of this cemetery as being a mecca for the observation of the spring migration. Dozens of species of beautiful songbirds, most of them warblers, spend a couple of weeks at this picturesque and historic cemetery before moving northward to build their nests. The cemetery has trees and flowering bushes from all around the world; a perfect haven in the middle of the city for these migrants.

Birders have flocked to this cemetery since its inception; our family did as well ever since I was a little girl. It was our way of celebrating Mother’s Day since it was my mother who passed along her love of birding to the rest of us.

Meredith had never expressed any interest in birds but she is the keeper of the flame when it comes to family tradition. Rooted deeply within her, it prompted this special invitation to enjoy the birds, flora and fauna together.

Although we arrived at mid-morning, there were still plenty of birds to spot (experienced birders usually come at the crack of dawn). We saw or heard several warblers including the Tennessee, Yellow Rumped, Black Throated Blue, American Redstart and the Ovenbird. We also heard or saw the Warbling Vireo (heard) and the Scarlet Tanager (saw, thankfully). We saw and heard a small flock of Baltimore Orioles.

We lucked upon a robin’s nest at eye’s view full of babies. There were several turtles at Willow Pond sunning themselves including a baby on top of its mother. There was a turkey nestled on top of a mausoleum tucked into the hillside of the Dell; we think she may have been sitting on a nest for she was very still.

A Tom Turkey, all fluffed and fanned out, strut his stuff in front of three females. He was fat and haughty-looking and the ladies paid him no mind at all.

We also took the time to look at the stones. As I suspected, Meredith found them fascinating. She does not find death to be morbid. She is blessed in that way (and in many ways). We read many of the fascinating stories on the stones and kidded around about how only the “rich and famous” (or as I said, the rich and historical) were buried here. She appreciated the scenery and took many pictures.

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Meredith has inherited my mother’s thoughtfulness. Her gifts to me get better and better each time. This latest one took some effort and sacrifice but not as much as I would have thought; she enjoyed our excursion as much as I did and kept mentioning that she and her boyfriend should take walks there. She was interested in looking at birds, fed by her appreciation of the family tradition. It has become sacred to her as it has been to me. To share that appreciation together was the greatest gift of all.

Since she has been living on her own, our relationship has changed. We have more in common now that we are both keeping house. Now that there is some distance between us both in time and place, there is a renewed closeness. The card she gave me for Mother’s Day was most indicative of that. It was a serious card, not overly sweet but very meaningful. It stated in a factual way the way she felt about me and I will treasure it always. I half-expected a joke when I opened the inside because she loves a good laugh and when I mentioned that to her boyfriend, he chuckled with understanding.

There is no greater gift than the gift of oneself. The time and effort that Meredith put into this year’s gift will not be forgotten. She is merely carrying on the tradition of my own mother who also gave of herself in such wonderful ways.

p.s. I also have a wonderful son who just left me a touching and funny tribute on Facebook. Thanks Stephen, you’re the best!